


(Non) Telepathic Control

by softforsummers (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Erik Lehnsherr Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softforsummers
Summary: Erik wants Charles to stay away from his headHe already had too much control over it





	(Non) Telepathic Control

It happened at some point after their peace talk, the night before it all went to hell and they lost each other forever. 

 

“Why do you always say that?” Charles snapped. For the five millionth time Erik had demanded he stay out of his head. “For god sake I wasn't even in your mind, Erik. You forget that by now I know you well enough I hardly need telepathy to know what you're thinking.”

 

Now Erik was truly angry. “You don't know shit about me!” Erik practically yelled, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. 

 

“Yes I do! How much time have we spent together? How many nights have we spent staying up late talking? Have you forgotten the night I-” 

 

“The night you what? Pulled me out of the water?” his laugh was cold and humorless.  “Yes, Charles, I do remember. You've only mentioned it a thousand times! Did you really believe that going through my head without permission would make me comfortable with your telepathy? Oh, but you have morals to uphold, unlike me. So I should just trust you blindly like you trust everyone else!”

 

Erik leaned back in his chair, glaring at Charles from across the chess board. “I believe it's your move,” he said coldly. 

 

Charles sat silently for a moment. His eyes weren't cold so much as appraising, as if he could figure Erik out just by staring at him. 

 

“You preach acceptance and tell the others to embrace their gifts, and use them freely whenever they so choose. You would be more receptive to Alex blasting the White House to pieces than you are to the idea of my mutation even existing. Why? Do you trust me so little? You know I have never used my powers to hurt you. Not even that night in the water,” Charles spoke softly, the hurt he felt showing. “I will never hurt you Erik.”

 

But he already had. Everything about Charles was punishing him; as if he hadn't had enough torture for a lifetime. 

 

The rational, logical part of Erik knew Charles was no stranger to suffering. His life wasn't entirely comprised of cushy mansions and binge drinking with various buxom women. 

 

The emotional, passionate side of Erik felt Charles had been through pain before as well. Not the way Erik had, no. Charles was someone who had walked through hell and come out warm-hearted. 

 

But Erik couldn't think rationally around Charles, and it had been a long time since he let his emotions rule him. Erik hated Charles in an entirely new and inexplicable way. 

 

He hated the way Charles was so empathetic all the time. As if he  _ wanted _ to understand. Like he genuinely cared and felt that people's well being was important to him personally. But it wasn't, because every man is an island and the only person he could depend on was himself. Erik knew that if Charles  _ really  _ saw what a monster he was there would be no place for him in the mansion.

 

Or in Charles life. 

 

Not that there was a place to start with. 

 

Because he was just some charity case for Charles. It was impersonal; all of it was born from some bizarre belief that helping people was his job. Charles spent more time with Erik than anyone else in the mansion because he was the fucked up basket case that needed all the time and attention, right? If Erik wasn't as damaged, if he was fully functional and good enough for Charles’ time and attention then he wouldn't have any of Charles’ time and attention. It was a paradox.  

 

Charles was putting all his effort into reforming Erik, making him fit for polite company. Once he was fixed then it's on to the next project and Erik would be forgotten. 

 

But none of that had to do with the matter at hand. Charles wanted to know why Erik kept pushing him away and demanding he stay out of his head despite knowing damn well Charles respected him too much to hurt him. 

 

All the power he had been blessed with and Charles used it to help overgrown teenagers with confidence issues learn to blast the heads off mannequins properly. Because that was Charles. Enough power to take over the planet and he wanted to help people with it. 

 

It was a unique and cruel form of punishment: someone like Charles put in his path when it could never work. Erik knew he would never stay with him. They disagreed too much and he would never change; he refused to stay and be Charles’ little project. He refused to stay and disappoint him time and again with false hope. Charles was a naive fool for believing the world could ever change; but he was even more naive for believing Erik ever could. 

 

It was good then that Charles stayed out of his head. There was too much in it that had to be kept away from Charles. So kind, loving and understanding. What would he think of Erik if he knew what he wanted? 

 

The way he felt uncomfortable seeing his sister's blue skin told Erik everything he needed to know; Charles was a good man but deep down he was afraid of things that are different, even if they're beautiful. 

 

It was better like this. Sometimes Erik would imagine what would happen if Charles was inclined the same way. 

 

If Charles came to him one day and pressed his slim body against Erik. If he wrapped his arms around his neck and finally let him taste his mouth. The mouth that had haunted his dreams longer than he cared to admit. 

 

He would flick his pretty pink tongue along those plump lips, and look up at Erik with impossibly blue eyes. His lips would part softly, expectantly, begging for Erik to claim him thoroughly. 

 

Just once Erik wanted to know what Charles sounded like when he came. Was he loud and desperate? Did he beg and cry out? 

 

Or would he come with a soft gasp, arching his back and whimpering Erik's name softly? Just the idea of Charles’ plump ass in the air, face pressed into the mattress, as he begged and whined under Erik's hot, wet mouth was too much. 

 

It was horrible, really. The amount of control Charles had over Erik. He didn't need his telepathy to make him comply. A smile. A small touch. A shared look. Little things that kept Erik on edge, wondering what Charles was thinking and wishing he was the telepath. 

 

As much as Erik hated Charles he loved him too. 

 

He hated Charles for being so naive but he loved him for still having faith in a monster like him. 

 

He hated Charles for keeping him around out of a delusional desire to fix him but he loved that Charles kept him around. 

 

As much as he wanted to hate him, he couldn't. It hurt that he loved Charles so deeply and he was just Charles’ friend. Barely even a friend. He knew with complete certainty that Charles would replace him with some other fuck up the second Erik was brought up to his standards. 

 

He knew that one way or another he would leave Charles. Of course Charles would be sad that he could never fix Erik. But there would be other projects and they would distract him and he would forget all about the one that got away. 

 

But not Erik. Erik would never forget.

 

Charles was branded into his mind. Even without his telepathy he had taken control of Erik. He had screwed around with his head to the point where it would take so little for Erik to obey. 

 

Nobody should be able to control him that way. 

 

Charles was still standing there looking hurt and lost. Erik wanted desperately to fix things, to reassure Charles that the problem wasn't with him. To pull him against his chest, close enough to feel his heart beating. 

 

But he would settle for the next best thing. 

 

“I don't want you using your telepathy because I don't trust you screwing around with my head.” He put as much venom into his words as he could just to see Charles hurt. Erik needed Charles to hate him as much as he hated himself, he needed him to see how fucked up he was and turn away in disgust. Better for him to do it now and on his terms rather than later when Erik was even further under his spell. 

 

“I don't trust anyone at all, Charles, and I'm so sorry to inform you that you're not the exception just because you saved me from drowning once.”  _ You've done so much more than that, Charles. You've saved me from drowning a million times.  _ But he couldn't say that out loud. 

 

“I don't answer to your misguided morals, I'm not one of your students, and I don't need your help. I don't need your generosity. I don't need your sympathy.” 

 

His words had the opposite of their intended effect on Charles. 

 

His whole body relaxed, his eyes softened  Everything about him became the image of kindness and empathy.  

 

Erik could have strangled him. 

 

Whatever he was about to say he never got the chance. Erik was out of the room and down the hall before he could get a word out. 

 

He ran away from Charles that night, and the next afternoon, and again, and again, and again. Until he couldn't remember a time when the sight of Charles didn't make him want to turn and flee.  

 

But later, after Cuba, after the White House, after Cairo, Erik would stay up late and wonder what he might have said. 


End file.
